


Alternate Paths

by treenahasthaal



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon Compliant, Dark, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Gen, Humour, Hurt/Comfort, Illness, Jedi, Major Character Injury, Major character death - Freeform, Never Ending, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sith, Transgender Luke, Tumblr Prompts, Violence, happy and sad, light - Freeform, one shots, ongoing, whumpage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:16:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 41
Words: 16,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27175084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treenahasthaal/pseuds/treenahasthaal
Summary: This is a series of one-off fics/scenes that were written in response to Tumblr prompts - just like my gay tattooed Luke series. Some may be connected and I will attempt to highlight where.Most of the scenes feature Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader's or Anakin Skywalker's family relationship - both good and bad.Some of these are very brief and short. Some are pretty silly, and some are quite dark. So please be aware of the tags.
Relationships: Aunt and Nephew, Father and Son Relationship - Relationship, Leia Organa & Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa/Han Solo, Luke Skywalker & Anakin Skywalker, Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader, Mara Jade & Luke Skywalker, Normal sibling relationships - Relationship, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Skywalker family - Relationship, Uncle and Nephew, various
Comments: 20
Kudos: 88





	1. Dreams Can Come True

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was not the father Luke had always dreamed of

**Dreams Can Come True**

**Prompt: This was not the father Luke had always dreamed of.**

No, this was beyond his dreams!

Tall, dark blonde, blue-eyed... _like his own_! ...the handsome, robed, man standing before him was nothing like the downtrodden navigator his Uncle Owen had described... and, was that a lightsaber hanging from his belt?

The man smiled, his blue eyes alive and happy, the movement tugging at the scar that bisected through one eye; he'd been in some battle, fought a foe with lightsabers clashing!

"Hello, Luke," he crouched down to the ten year old's level, "I'm so pleased to have found you."

"Anakin," a voice warned and Luke turned to regard the second man; smaller, reddish haired, "we don't have much time," he glanced at Luke, smiled, "Hello there!"

"Luke," his father said, holding out his hand as a warm Tatooine breeze scattered sand across sand and tugged at the loose locks of their hair, "come with me."

ooOOoo


	2. Golden Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke woke up in a cold sweat as once again he had a dream about the tall dark man wearing all black with a black hood pulled low over his face where the only thing he could see were glowing gold eyes.

** Golden Eyes **

**Prompt: Luke woke up in a cold sweat as once again he had a dream about the tall dark man wearing all black with a black hood pulled low over his face where the only thing he could see were glowing gold eyes.**

He lay in his bed staring at the bland ceiling of his bedroom, his eyes trailing the curve of its adobe construction as he pondered the stark memory of his nightmare; the same nightmare he’d been having for weeks now.

What did it all mean; who was that tall man who strode so confidently, so darkly, into his dreams and why did he seem to get closer and closer with every repetition of the nocturnal scenario?

“Luke?” His uncle’s voice, sounded strange, muted; scared. “You’d better get up.”

With heart racing Luke instantly threw back his covers, his actions galvanised by the strange tones of his guardian’s voice, even with a Tusken attack his uncle had never sounded so... terrified. Bare footed Luke ran from his room and ducked down as he reached the top of the steps that would take him down into the atrium of the farm and.... 

...he skidded to a stop, narrowly catching himself before he pitched forward and fell down the stair. He stared in shock, in horror, at the sight before him.

His aunt and uncle were on their knees in the sand, surrounded by Imperial Stormtroopers and the tall, dark, man stood in the courtyard, those golden eyes shining out from the dark cowl; watching him.

“My son...” 


	3. Jhapor Snippet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke felt the chills up his spine as the mechanical baritone voice questioned him on the jhapor snippet he had worn seconds ago that had once belonged to his mother.

**Jhapor Snippet**

**Prompt: Luke felt the chills up his spine as the mechanical baritone voice questioned him on the jhapor snippet he had worn seconds ago that had once belonged to his mother.**

He was on his knees, arms held behind him by the tight binders the stormtroopers had fitted around his wrists. He glared up through his sweat damp bangs at the black behemoth of a... man?... standing menacingly before him. 

“You would do well to answer, Rebel,” the words were growled, the suppressed anger, the threat in them needing no interpretation. The small wooden carving dangled in front of his face, its leather laces clutched tightly in a gloved fist that had already landed a powerful blow to his face, busting the skin of his cheek; a tiny drop of his blood stained the japor.

Luke spat a gob of blood onto the floor of the corridor, and glanced at the prone body of the unconscious princess he had been trying to rescue; he didn’t understand this, didn’t understand why this... man?... was so obsessed by the small snippet of wood that his father had carved for his mother. “It.. was.. my mother’s,” he ground out.

Another powerful blow to his face, sending him to the floor. “Liar!” 

The world looped dizzily around him as a black hand grabbed him by the neck and dragged him up; his back hit the wall, his head striking against the durasteel. he was held in place, gasping and gagging for a breath.

“Anakin, stop!” A voice called, Ben’s voice. “He’s your son!” 

ooOOoo


	4. Gem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke thought the gem might have been a ruby, but when he got close he could... somehow FEEL anger and hatred pulsing out from it.

**Gem**

**Prompt:Luke thought the gem might have been a ruby, but when he got close he could... somehow FEEL anger and hatred pulsing out from it.**

He closed his gloved fingers around the crystal, gripping it tight in his palm, opening himself to the throb of its power; of it’s rage and loathing, of it’s sheer malignancy and malevolence. It felt.... alive! 

_I am yours, you are mine.... we are one._

The whisper in the Force chilled him, caused the hair on the back of his neck to rise; he shuddered in pleasure and, grinning, he looked up at the robbed figure standing above his kneeling form. “Thank you, master.”

“You have done well,” Snoke told him and...

... gasping Luke opened his eyes. 

It was daylight; lines of light were flowing through the cracks in the stone, around the ill-fitting, makeshift, door of his hut and he could hear the crashing of waves against the cliffs of the island and the cries of the porgs as they, too, woke for the day. He groaned, moved, and regretted it as his bones creaked; he was getting old.

He pulled himself up, sat on the edge of the stone edge of his bed and hung his head, wearily shaking it as the images of the dream lingered. 

“Ben,” he whispered, his heart in torment.

ooOOoo


	5. A Jedi Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaping, Wedge stared at his squad leader in disbelief for a few long seconds; Luke shot him a wide and unrepentant grin

**A Jedi Thing**

**Prompt: Gaping, Wedge stared at his squad leader in disbelief for a few long seconds; Luke shot him a wide and unrepentant grin.**

Then he turned and walked away.

Wedge glanced back at Hobbie, who was happily crunching on the stick of Brekka beet, a vegetable he hated and avoided like the plague, and yet with a wave of a hand and a quiet, “you will eat the brekka, Hobbie,” Luke had somehow persuaded the pilot to munch down.

Wedge looked back at his retreating commander, and then jogged after him. “What did you do?”

“I just suggested he should eat his vegetables,” Luke smiled.

Wedge waved a hand, a poor copy of Luke’s gesture, “A Jedi thing?”

Luke smiled knowingly.

Wedge stopped dead, a sudden thought halting his feet; Luke walked on still smiling. “Hey,” Wedge called after him, “have you done that to me?”

ooOOoo


	6. Not This Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader too consumed to disarm Organa’s violet saber strike, didn’t fathom Luke jumping in the way as the next blow struck not that of his target but his son.

**Not This Monster**

**Prompt: Vader too consumed to disarm Organa’s violet saber strike, didn’t fathom Luke jumping in the way as the next blow struck not that of his target but his son.**

He grunted with the effort of parrying his father’s vicious stroke, he stepped back, elbowing the Jedi Princess out of the way. “Run!” he told her, keeping his eyes on the father he had just betrayed.

“No, Luke!”

The two red blades seemed welded together, the power of the locked lightsabers creating opposing forces that threatened to push the blades apart. The younger Sith Lord planted his feet, putting all of his strength into keeping his father back; he had never defeated his father in a duel and he knew he was lost the second he had stepped between Vader and the Jedi. 

“That’s not my name!” He grated between teeth, sweat beading on his brow.

“It was!” Organa insisted. “It was…. Luke Skywalker, son of Anakin! Your father was a Jedi Knight, not this monster!” 

Vader abruptly stepped back, extinguishing his sword and surprised by his father’s move, Luke stumbled forward just as Vader re-ignited his blade; it slid easily through his sternum and his heart. 

His last sight was his father’s mask, the last sound he heard was his sister’s screams. 

ooOOoo


	7. Accident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke spoke out-his first word-pointing at his mother as she gasped in shock and surprised.

** Accident **

**Prompt: “Angel,” Luke spoke out-his first word-pointing at his mother as she gasped in shock and surprised.**

Padme smiled, the expression soft and sad, as she reached into stroke Luke’s blond bangs away from his face as his eyes flickered, closed, and he lapsed back into unconsciousness. 

She glanced across the medical bed and at the man standing opposite her. “His father called me that, when we first met.” There were tears in her eyes.

Bail Organa’s eyes dropped to his adoptive son lying so still in his sleep; the boy’s face was marred with bruises and thin cuts from his accident; the accident that had killed Breha and rendered Luke comatose, until Padme Amidala had come to Alderaan with the Jedi Knight who had been hiding her and Luke’s sister.

There was a shuffle of feet, a rustle of robes and Obi-Wan Kenobi entered the room and stepped to Luke’s bedside. “He’ll survive,” he told them quietly, “but, we’ve discovered it wasn’t an accident. Breha and Luke were targeted by the Empire, by Vader.

“Anakin....” Padme softly breathed, looking down at her son; so like his father and so unlike him, her heart breaking. 

ooOOoo


	8. Navigator

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I think,” Anakin, no Luke’s subconscious, spoke in the forms of his father, “I think deep down Anakin loves you too.”

**Navigator**

**Prompt: “I think,” Anakin, no Luke’s subconscious, spoke in the forms of his father, “I think deep down Anakin loves you too.”**

Luke paused, the wrench he was using to tighten the bolt on his skyhopper’s wing now motionless in his hand, and he smiled at his inner voice, imagining what his father’s voice sounded like; of course Anakin had loved him, of course his father had loved him. Isn’t that what father’s did? 

Loved their children? Their sons?

He got back to work; thoughts still on his elusive sire. A navigator on a spice freighter. It didn’t sound very exciting, it sounded dull and boring, just like life on Tatooine, but spice running had got his father killed.

_It’s a lie..._

He stilled, gnawlet flesh raising the fine hairs on his arms, he cocked his head and looked around. Nothing, no-one. The entry to garage was empty.

He had thought he’d heard something, felt something...

which was silly

...but there was nothing; just the rough suck-hiss of the moisture vaporator that stood in the farm’s courtyard, it must need tuned again to sound that bad, and... 

The garage darkened, cooled and the noise was too loud to be coming from the atrium. 

Luke swallowed, gripped the wrench in his hand and slowly rose to his feet. He licked his lips, steeled his resolve, and with a cry he whirled around with his arm raised, ready to bring it down on whoever, or whatever the intruder was.

His arm was caught in strong gloved hand, his wrist viciously twisted and Luke yelped in pain, dropping the wrench; it clattered to the floor. 

A noise, like a laugh, issued from the black angular mask of his attacker. “You are courageous, but weak,” the stranger announced, “I will make you strong.” he started dragging the boy to the door.

Luke stumbled, fell and was lifted by the arm. “Who... who are you?” He stuttered in fright.

There was humour in the voice, “Apparently, I was a navigator on a spice freighter.” 

ooOOoo


	9. Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin was expecting the principal’s call from the Naboo school academy, however what he didn’t expect was that instead of Leia, it was Luke he found still across the principal with a bruised cheek and bloody nose.

**Fight**

**Prompt:** **Anakin was expecting the principal’s call from the Naboo school academy, however what he didn’t expect was that instead of Leia, it was Luke he found still across the principal with a bruised cheek and bloody nose.**

Frowning in concern Anakin lowered himself into the chair next to his son. Luke didn’t look at him, he simply sniffed and wiped at his nose with his sleeve; it came away bloody. The boy swung his legs, the small limbs swinging free.

Anakin glanced at the principle, the unspoken question clear in his eyes; just what the kark had happened? 

“Ah, Master Skywalker, yes, I’m afraid that Luke has been the aggressor in a fight.”

Anakin raised an eyebrow in surprise, “Really?” He asked, his tone soft, but it still held a strength that gave the Principle pause. 

“It seems that he got into an argument with another student and I’m afraid he hit out first,” he coughed at that, “or rather, he used the Force to push the student.”

The frown was back, Anakin shot a disapproving look at his son, sending... 

_Luke? In anger?_

Luke hung his head lower.

“... the uh, other student fought back,” the principle was still talking, “and I’m afraid Luke came off worse for his actions.”

Ah... Anakin was beginning to understand. He hid the smile that threatened to curl his lips; this wasn’t a laughing matter. “Where’s Leia?”

The principle winced at the name and reached for the comm. on his desk. “Bring her in.”

The door swept open and a small whirlwind with dark braided hair (the braids now falling apart) strode into the room.

“Dad!” she threw herself into Anakin’s arms, her indignation sang clear in the Force. “We were learning about how Chancellor Palpatine tried to take over the Republic and I said that you killed Palpatine, but he said that Uncle Obi-Wan did it, and then he said....”

ooOOoo


	10. Into The Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t care, you killed my mother.” Like flatly stated igniting two saber blades before getting into a battle formation that reminded Vader too much of his former Padawan.

** Into The Rain **

**Prompt: “I don’t care, you killed my mother.” Like flatly stated igniting two saber blades before getting into a battle formation that reminded Vader too much of his former padawan.**

Vader ignited his own saber, bringing the sword up in a defensive posture; the red light casting crimson across his mask, the raindrops hissing against the blade.

“Your mother was alive, when I last saw her” he told the boy… his son. 

His son! His stolen son; who stood so bold, so brave and alive before him.

He could see the boy pale at his words, at the unspoken insinuation within them…

_I didn’t kill her… you did…_

…could feel the cut in Luke’s resolve, but still Luke’s hands tightened on the hilts of his swords. “You choked her,” he screamed at Vader across the deluge of rain between them; water ran down his face, drenched his clothes. Lightening forked the sky, “you weakened her! She wouldn’t have died…”

“I didn’t die.”

Luke faltered, turned and watched as a small woman stepped out from Vader’s ship into the rain and the deepening mud along with a girl of a similar age to his own.

The older woman sadly smiled at him; “Hello, Luke, we’ve missed you.”

Mind reeling, Luke stepped back, lightsabers lowering as he tried to take in what was happening. At was at that moment that Vader struck, his sword swinging down and across, neatly catching both of Luke’s sabers and wrenching them from his hands. 

Luke squawked, slipped, and fell back into the mud, he looked up and found Vader’s saber pointing at his face. 

“Anakin, stop!” 

The woman ran over and knelt by her defeated son. Her hand took the side of Luke’s face, her palm was soft against his skin and he tore his eyes from the beast who had proclaimed to be his father and looked into the soft brown eyes of…

…his mother?

“Luke,” she murmured into the patter of raindrops, “Oh, Luke…”

ooOOoo


	11. Wilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sola was startled by the news of the newcomer Obi wan Kenobi who had arrive with a baby, Padme’s son, her nephew who she now cradled in her arms.

**Wilt**

**Prompt** : **Sola was startled by the news of the newcomer Obi wan Kenobi who had arrive with a baby, Padme’s son, her nephew who she now cradled in her arms.**

With rising grief for her sister who lay in State in the Palace, Sola traced a finger lightly over the fine skin of the baby’s cheek. He turned, rooting, lips moving, looking to latch on and mewed quietly when he went unfulfilled.

She lifted her eyes to Kenobi, allowing a gentle tear to grace her face. “The father, is that young Jedi who accompanied her home after the assassinations attempts?”

Kenobi took in a breath, sighed heavily, nodded. “Yes, Anakin Skywalker.”

Sola smiled, looking back at the baby, taking in his wisps of blonde hair and the little cleft chin “He has the look of his father. She named him Luke, didn’t she?” 

Kenobi took a step to the side, fell wearily onto a chair.” “How did you know?”

Sola, laughed, placing her little finger at the baby’s hand. Tiny fingers curled around hers. “Padme chose that name years ago for a boy child. Leia, for a girl.”

The Jedi seemed to wilt further into the seat. 

Sensing the man’s exhaustion, his own grief, Sola held the babe close and sat opposite him. “I feel you have a lot to explain, Master Kenobi.” 

ooOOoo


	12. Too Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin stroked his son's soft hair as he took a good look at him for the first time.

**Too Late**

**Prompt: Anakin stroked his son's soft hair as he took a good look at him for the first time.**

His heavy gloved hand brushed the hair back from Luke’s face and he smiled at the tanned skin, remembering how the suns had coloured his skin, too, as a child playing in the sands of Tatooine. The boy’s nose was straight, cheeks high, face filled and a cleft chin that Anakin knew from days past was considered handsome by some. 

Luke’s body was lean, lanky, like his own had been at that age and he knew that his son would be all arms and legs when he ran. 

He laid his gloved palm against Luke’s cheek, feeling the warmth from his skin seep into the leather. 

Luke’s eyes were closed. No, not quite... his eyelids were slightly open, and Anakin could see the blue beneath; the blue that he knew would have shone in the sunslight.

Would have.

Now, his son’s eyes were dark. Dead.

His hand came away wet from the blood that had dribbled from Luke’s nose, and had trailed a thin scarlet line across his cheek. Anakin pulled himself away from the corpse, refusing to look at the hole in Luke’s chest where he had plunged his lightsaber only a few moments before. 

He turned to regard the couple by the farmstead door; the woman had wailed when he had stabbed the boy, the man had caught her as she fell. Owen Lars had cried out seconds too late; “He’s your son!” Now, they huddled together on the ground and wept.

Anakin Skywalker had grieved for the child, had arisen for a few brief moments to appreciate the agony of loss. Now it was Darth Vader who turned to exact his revenge.

ooOOoo


	13. Dreams of Mustafar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin held Luke on his lap and rubbed his back, trying to comfort the boy who had his face buried in his chest as he cried.

**Prompt:** **Anakin held Luke on his lap and rubbed his back, trying to comfort the boy who had his face buried in his chest as he cried.**

“Hey,” he said gently, feeling his young son’s grief and horror shuddering in the Force. “Hey, what’s wrong, Luke?”

Luke wept on, little body heaving with heavy sobs. He was clutching tightly at his father’s shirt, and Anakin could already feel the tears soak through the fabric to his skin.

Closing his eyes, the Jedi Knight drew upon the Force, sending little waves of calm toward the distraught child curled on his lap. He reached out, tenderly pressing upon his son’s presence. Luke rebuffed him strongly, fiercely, refusing to allow his father to feel, to see, any more than he was already showing.

“Luke?” Anakin questioned. 

A hitched breath, a huge sniff then, thickly, Luke asked. “It was you.”

A chill settled over Anakin. He knew! Luke knew.

Luke pulled away, looked up at his father. The child’s eyes were red and swollen, a thin line of runny snot leaked from one nostril. Luke wiped at his face with his sleeve and Anakin did not chide him. Luke’s eyes looked older, looked darker, the expression one of examination, of judgement, of hope. 

“I…,” sniff, “I dreamed,” a breath, “I saw…” a hard rub at still crying eyes. “My mother.” 

His father hung his head, heart broken and ashamed under the scrutiny of a seven year old child. He should have foreseen this, should have realised that Luke’s gifts in the Force may have echoed his own; the ability to see ahead, and to see behind. Hadn’t he been tortured by his own dreams.

“Luke,” he began, trying to find the words to explain his actions all those years ago on Mustafar. How, everything had been twisted and how he’d been manipulated without even realising it, how…

“Ani?” 

Luke stiffened, turned and gleefully greeted, “Mom!” He pushed away from his father, struggled to extricate himself from his father’s arms. He jumped down, ran across the room and Padme crouched to catch him. He wrapped his arms around her.

“What’s going on, Lukey?” She asked, and smiled at the muffled, indignant, “Luke, mom, Luke.” Luke was too old for nicknames. 

Padme glanced at her husband a question in her eyes. 

Anakin sighed, old wounds opened. “He dreamed of Mustafar.”

Padme nodded, smooth a palm across her son’s back. She took his upper arms and gently moved him back so that she could see his face. “We have a lot to discuss, Luke, and we will tell you… and Leia… everything. I think it’s time you understood.” 

ooOOoo


	14. Who Is She?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke cautiously entered the room and saw only a large occupied bacta tank. At first he wondered if Vader was inside, but the Sith wasn’t supposed to be here. As he drew closer he could make out it was a woman with long curly brown hair.

**Who Is She?**

**Prompt:** **Luke cautiously entered the room and saw only a large occupied bacta tank. At first he wondered if Vader was inside, but the Sith wasn’t supposed to be here. As he drew closer he could make out it was a woman with long curly brown hair**.

He stared up at the figure floating serenely in the viscous fluid, her hair billowing out and up behind her. She was beautiful and for some odd reason she reminded him of Leia. He placed a hand against the transparisteel feeling the warmth of it on his palm as he gazed up at her.

Why did Vader have this woman in his castle? Why did Vader have this woman on Mustafar? 

Who was she?

A heavy hand fell on his shoulder.

Luke squawked and stumbled back, his hands going for both his blaster and his lightsaber. He bumped into the person behind him, pulled away, tripping over his feet. He landed with a bump on his tail bone.

Blaster in hand, lightsaber in the other, he stared up at Darth Vader, cursing the Rebel Intel that had said Vader was on the other side of the Galaxy, cursing himself for his lack of attention.

But, Vader wasn’t looking at him. Luke had moments to wonder at this while Vader stood, palm to transparisteel, and stared at the woman in the bacta tank.

Luke started to rise, but a quick ignition of a red lightsaber and a hum and sweep of the blade, stilled his movement when he found the tip of Vader’s saber in his face.

“Stay down,” Vader said, calmly. “I have no wish to harm you.” 

Luke scoffed to himself, but said nothing; that hadn’t been his experience on Cymoon 1. During their meeting there it had been quite obvious that Vader had wanted him dead. 

It was then Luke realised that Vader still wasn’t looking at him, and that the Dark Lord’s attention was firmly focused on the woman. 

He couldn’t help himself. His uncle often said that Luke’s biggest problem was his mouth, but he had to ask. “Who is she?”

There was a moment of silence before the large helmet turned and Luke could feel Vader’s eyes upon him. 

“She is my wife,” Luke was told, “and your mother.”

ooOOoo


	15. Loyalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "My loyalty is to Luke, never to your, 'master'." Galen reveals

**Loyalty**

**Prompt:** " **My loyalty is to Luke, never to your, 'master'." Galen reveals.**

Vader was still. So very still. He was standing by the window on the upper levels of the Imperial Palace but his attention was not on the view, but on the man standing… not kneeling as he should be… but standing before him. A bitter fire burned within at Marek’s words; a fire fuelled by close betrayal and disappointment. 

The Force wavered, rose and fell and churned, whispering with anticipation.

Lifting his head, Vader settled his eyes on his son. He could feel the energy within Luke, could almost touch the crackling electricity that surged through him. The very air seemed to vibrate. Luke was on the edge, teetering, just one word, one phrase would let loose the grinning yellow-eyed creature his son had become. 

Galen moved, taking a step back and then another as Vader watched both men; Luke’s eyes were dark, eager. Galen stopped, and they briefly faced one another, shared a sudden, intense, kiss, and then as one they turned to face the Dark Lord with sabers drawn.

Vader nodded in understanding. “It’s treason then.” 

ooOOoo


	16. Going For A Walk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After long, boring days of being confined to his bed, Luke was finally feeling better, and so when he knew his father had left, he decided to finally wander out of his room, however his adventure was short lived when he heard Vader's familiar voice from behind him, "And where do you think you're going, youngling?".

**Going For A Walk**

**Prompt:** **After long, boring days of being confined to his bed, Luke was finally feeling better, and so when he knew his father had left, he decided to finally wander out of his room, however his adventure was short lived when he heard Vader's familiar voice from behind him, "And where do you think you're going, youngling?"**

Luke froze, hand inches away from the door release to their private apartments. He grimaced, then plastered a grin on his face before turning around to look up at his father. 

“It’s a sunny day, I thought a walk in the garden’s would be good for me!” He tried to sound convincing. 

There was an indistinct sound from Vader's vocoder. It sounded like “harrumph,” which Luke had definitely never heard from his father before.

“And the fact that a certain Mara Jade is currently loitering by the fountain has absolutely nothing to do with your decision?”

“Heh,” now Luke was the one with the indistinct sounds, “eh... well, you know...” and was that warmth he felt in his cheeks? Force, he was blushing in front of his father! 

Vader lifted his head, glanced at the door. “I give you permission, but an hour only and you do not leave the gardens.”

Happy surprise rattled through Luke! Not just because his father hadn’t gone into his usual “women are betrayers,” speech, but because he was allowing him out after a month of healing, recover and confinement. It would be good to feel the sun on his face again. 

“Thanks, da... father!” He reached for the door again.

“Luke,” Vader rumbled, darkly.

Luke stopped again, glance back at his father, eyebrow raised, worried his father was about to withdraw the offer.

Vader gestured at his clothing. “You may want to change from your night attire.” 

ooOOoo


	17. Join Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was wondering if you could write something about Anakin doting on adult/teen Luke (maybe after they just met??
> 
> (This scene is connected to my "Don't Look, Don't See fic)

**Join Me**

**Prompt:** I was wondering if you could write something about Anakin doting on adult/teen Luke (maybe after they just met??

Putting his arm around the boy’s shoulder Vader led him up the ramp of the waiting shuttle craft. His son appeared dazed, and he could feel tremors shiver through the slim body. 

Shock. Emotional shock.

The boy had just found his guardian’s charred bodies, had been trying to bury them by himself, and had just been told that Darth Vader was his father. Stuck out here on Tatooine did the child even know who Darth Vader was?

Another series of trembles and the boy’s...

Luke, Vader told himself, his name is Luke.

... teeth chattered. 

“Sit down,” he told the youth and he helped lower him onto the acceleration chair in the cabin. 

Luke sat, hunched over, head down, tears still running unbidden from swollen eyes dripping into his lap and Vader didn’t know if it was from grief or from the Tatooine sands that had gotten into them. It was encrusted all over; on his face, his hands, clothes and in his hair. 

Reaching up to an overhead storage bin, Vader retrieved a med kit. Opening it he withdraw a thin emergency blanket and draped it around Luke’s shoulders. The boy grasped at it, drew it tight around himself as though the material could give him the comfort he so badly needed. 

Unsure what to do, it had been so long since he had cared for someone, so long since he had someone to care for, Vader stood in silence just looking down at his weeping child. He laid a hand on Luke’s shoulder and felt the boy stiffen. 

“I am sorry,” he intoned, the words coming out strange, strangled. It had been a long time since he had apologised to anyone. 

Luke’s head snapped up, blue, bloodshot eyes staring at the eye pieces of his father’s mask. 

Blue eyes, like his. A cleft in the chin, like him. Suns bleached blond hair, and Vader knew that it would darken as his had done once off the Force forsaken planet. 

This boy was his son! 

Vader wanted to reach out and touch that face, wanted to wipe away the sand and the tears, wanted to brush the hateful grains from his clothes. He wanted to brush aside the unruly hair to really see the boy’s features, instead he reached into the Force...

_...squalling emotions, gusting anger and fear, a love that burned into terrible pain at his aunt and uncle’s deaths, a curiosity at this black giant of a man who claimed to be his father...._

_....but that was impossible because his father had been killed by Darth Vader..._

“I did not kill your father,” the Dark Lord told him, repeating, “I am your father.”

Another shiver, but the boy set his jaw, his eyes narrowing, and Vader felt...

. _.. strength, a resolve and...._

_.... her! His son felt like her!_

Fury spiked in those eyes; they darkened. “My father was called Anakin Skywalker,” his voice was dry, hoarse from crying, from lack of water. 

“Yes,” Vader confirmed, “I...” He stopped. He was about to say that he was Anakin Skywalker, but that wasn’t true; he had shucked off that name in Palpatine’s office in the senate building, left the remnants of that man behind on the hot ash banks of Mustafar. 

And yet... 

“My Lord Vader!” 

The call from the hatchway drew Vader’s attention and he had to dampen down his sudden rage at the interruption. “What is it?”

The lead stormtrooper took an involuntary step backward. “We have completed the burial, my Lord.” 

Vader glanced back down at Luke, seeing the boy swallow, seeing him fight a new wave of grief. 

“Call your men,” Vader instructed. “We are returning to the ship.” 

The men trooped on board, stowed their weapons and settled on the seats around Luke, some glancing at him in curiosity.

He was loathed to leave the boy, but he had piloted the craft down and had not brought a co-pilot, so he simply nodded to Luke knowing that there were many conversations still to be had.

As he settled into the pilot’s chair and ran through the pre-flight engine start Vader felt, rather than heard, the movement behind him. He turned to find his son standing in the doorway, still wrapped in the blanket, with a water bulb in his hand. The sand, sweat and tears had been wiped from his face. 

There was a moment of silence as father and son regarded one another, then Luke held up the half empty bulb and said; “Your medic... he, uh, he thought...”

“I am glad he did,” Vader rumbled, surprised and pleased at the initiative showed by the trooper. 

“Uh,” Luke tore his eyes away from Vader’s mask and stared out of the view screen, at the sandy plains and the only home he had ever known. “I... can I sit with you,” he looked briefly at the empty co-pilot chair, shrugged awkwardly, “I... I’m a pilot, but.. I’ve never...”

Behind the mask, Vader began to smile. Perhaps it had not been the trooper who had taken the initiative; his son had courage to approach him. “You may join me,” he invited, and the brief half smile that grazed Luke’s lips lifted his heart.

Vader waited until Luke was settled and strapped in, before engaging the lifters and thrusters. The craft rose from the sands.

It was time to bring Luke home. 

ooOOoo


	18. Many Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke stared at the red lightsaber at his chest, at the mask of the monster holding it, and knew he was about to die.

** Many Hearts **

**Prompt : Luke stared at the red lightsaber at his chest, at the mask of the monster holding it, and knew he was about to die.**

He was lying on his back and trying to inch back from the heat of the red blade. Exhaustion, and pain, hampered him. He’d lost his own sword when Vader had tripped him, punched him and caught his blue blade with his own red; twisting the hilt out his hand. Luke hadn’t seen where it had landed. 

“Obi-Wan should never have taught you, boy!” The monster growled, teasing, torturing, Luke in the last few minutes before his death. “Hiding you with Organa was a mistake. You have led me to the heart of the Rebellion.” 

“The...” Luke panted, “... the Rebellion has many hearts.”

Vader positioned the sword above Luke’s heart. “They are about to lose one more.”

“Wait!” Luke called as the Dark Lord raised his saber for the killing blow. Then he desperately rolled as the blade speared down.... and into the dirt. He rolled again, and again, each time the sword missing. 

The Sith roared in fury, finally sending his opponent flying with a flick of wrist. 

Luke smacked into the nearest wall and dropped, rallying in time to find Vader stalking toward him.

“No more games, young one,” The Dark Lord said as Luke picked himself up and backed up to the wall; the stone structure warm from the sun. “Time to die.”

Luke lifted his chin, blinked grit from his eyes, and met the sickly yellow gaze of his executioner. “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

The tall man laughed, as his robes flapped in the rising winds. “Like it matters,” he sneered, lifting his lightsaber; the red blade buzzing in anticipation of the kill.

Luke took a deep breath, readying his body for death, allowing the Force to surround him, to accept him, and said his last words as the sword swung down. “I’m your son.” 

ooOOoo


	19. Daughter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leia tried not to be angry with her brother. Truly, deeply, she tried. But when she wanted nothing more than to curl up with him and Han after the battle, and he was busy fraternizing with Darth Vader, she couldn't quite help it.

** Daughter **

**Prompt: Leia tried not to be angry with her brother. Truly, deeply, she tried. But when she wanted nothing more than to curl up with him and Han after the battle, and he was busy fraternizing with Darth Vader, she couldn't quite help it.**

The Princess stormed through the corridors of Home One, heading for the brig. it was time to put an end to this.... whatever this was! That Luke would choose to spend time with his... that monster… instead of with his friends was unconscionable. 

The door to the brig was heavily guarded, but the Alliance soldiers stepped aside for her and the door zipped open. Leia stepped inside to find more heavily armed Alliance personnel inside the hallway that led to the cells. 

“Where is Commander Skywalker?” she barked, a little too sharply at a young soldier near her; the girl paled but pointed down the cell corridor. 

Vader was in the first cell; a small cubicle separated from the corridor by a simple ray-shield and not by a heavy durasteel door as in Imperial detention. Leia gasped at what she saw, Vader sitting on a bunk that sagged under his weight looking up at Luke floating in the air. 

“What are you doing to him!” She cried in alarm. 

Vader turned to her and Luke yelped and fell heavily to the floor with an audible, “AH!”

There was a rattle of running footsteps and Leia found herself surrounded by all the soldiers’ weapons drawn and pointed in at Vader. 

“Luke, are you all right?!”

“Leia!” Luke grunted, pushing himself up. He looked up at her, cocked his head at the assembly of guns and personnel. “I’m fine,” he assured everyone, feeling a wave of amusement from his father. “I was meditating with my father’s guidance.”

There was a squeak of springs and Vader stood, the solders took a step back lifting their guns higher as the Dark Lord stepped passed Luke and up to the shielding. He stared out at Leia and lifted a hand placing his palm in the air as though touching a sheet of glass instead of pulsing energy.

“Daughter,” he said. 

Leia felt the audience around her stiffen in shock, felt them turn in her direction, felt all their questions hang unanswered in the air. She glared in at Luke, saw his grin, and felt her anger burn.

ooOOoo 


	20. Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader frowned, he hadn't been this surprised since... he actually didn't think he had EVER been this surprised... his son had been born a girl?

** Surprise **

**Prompt** : **Vader frowned, he hadn't been this surprised since... he actually didn't think he had EVER been this surprised... his son had been born a girl?**

“You are certain?” Vader asked the medic.

“Yes, My Lord, the scan is irrefutable,” he held the datapad out to the Dark Lord, who took it almost absently. “The Rebel is female.”

A girl. He had been right. His child had been a girl! He had felt it... and yet, Padme had been so sure she was carrying a boy.

Could they both have been right? 

Turning away he told the woman, “You are dismissed,” and he activated the cell door release and stepped down. 

Luke’s head jerked up, eyes widening in fear and anger, he clutched at the loose fabric of his tunic drawing closed around his body, but not before Vader glimpsed the binder around his chest. 

“Obi-Wan can no longer help you,” he could feel Luke’s sorrow in the Force at the Jedi’s death, “and your friends have escaped.”

“They weren’t my friends,” Luke retorted, lifting his chin in defiance.

“You are alone.” It was the blunt, cruel truth. The child had taken a glancing blow from a blaster shot and fallen in the docking bay after Obi-Wan’s death. Now he, solely, was left to bear the brunt of the Emperor’s wrath at the Princess’s escape. 

“Are you going to question me? Kill me?” His voice was soft, sounded more feminine and Vader saw the small wince as Luke realised this.

“No,” Vader stated emphatically. “You do not know who you are. I am going to help you find yourself.”

Confusion rattled through the slender form. “I... don’t understand.”

“Obi-Wan thought he could hide you with Owen and Beru Lars. He thought that the memories of Tatooine would keep me away and that you would be safe.” He paused, bowed his head for a moment and filled the stillness that had taken over the cell. “He was wrong. I found you, saw you briefly when I returned to pay respects to my mother. I confronted Owen and he confessed all. I left you with the Lars and with Obi-Wan watching over you. I knew that if I took you, if I claimed you, that Obi-Wan would react and fight. I could not chance the Emperor sensing the disturbances in the Force that would cause; he would want you for himself.”

Luke pulled himself up from the solid bench and stood before the bulk of the Dark Lord. He stared intently at Vader’s Mask, curiosity now replacing fear and Vader could sense his son’s understanding slide home. 

“You’re my father,” Luke said with wonder.

Vader lifted a gloved hand and placed it gently against Luke’s cheek. “And you, are my son.”

ooOOoo


	21. Disentangled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey! You have a really nice 5 sentence fic with the prompt "this was not the father Luke had always dreamt of", and I wanted to request a continuation of that, if you want to do it? Maybe set some time after Anakin got Luke, because it was really good :)

**Prompt:** **Hey! You have a really nice 5 sentence fic with the prompt "this was not the father luke had always dreamt of", and I wanted to request a continuation of that, if you want to do it? Maybe set some time after Anakin got Luke, because it was really good :)**

**(This is a continuation of the very first prompt.)**

**Disentangled**

Luke reached for his father’s hand and... hesitated. He turned to look at his aunt and uncle standing behind them. He knew them, he loved them, they were all he had known for all of his life. 

His aunt crouched down and gathered him in her arms, his uncle was suddenly there, too, his strong arms around them both. 

“It’s okay, Luke,” Beru was whispering, “you’ll see us again.” Luke could hear the pain in her voice, felt the hitch in her chest. 

“Be brave, boy,” Owen was saying, “listen to your father, do as he says and you’ll be safe.” But, he could feel his uncle’s anguish, too. Owen was squeezing them tightly. 

“Owen,” it was his father’s voice, there was a warning in it, and Luke could feel a tingle at the back of his neck, like the feeling he got when a sandstorm was closing in; something was coming.

The Lars disentangled themselves and stood up releasing Luke and his father’s heavy hand fell onto his shoulder. “Come on, Luke, we have to hurry,” and Luke glanced up at his too tall parent and saw the hard set of his jaw as he addressed the Lars. “You both need to leave here. Now!”

His Uncle nodded. “There’s an abandoned croft on the edge of the Dune Sea, we’ll shelter there.”

A large hand encircled his upper arm, and his father dragged him back. 

“Wait!” he suddenly shouted, panicked, digging his feet into the sand and his aunt covered her mouth, sobbed and turned away. “Wait! They can come. They can come, too!” 

There was a rumble of an engine and Luke’s feet hit the ramp of the small ship, and the other man called out. “We need to move!” 

“No!” Luke called, beating his hands on his father’s body, “They can come, too.” 

But they were up the ramp now, and it raised and closed and the suns were gone. His father released him, ran to the cockpit, and Luke fell to the floor and cried. 

ooOOoo


	22. Dark Humour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He had never seen his father get as livid as he did when that moff looked down, scowling at Luke and telling him that children should be seen and not heard.

**Prompt: He had never seen his father get as livid as he did when that moff looked down, scowling at Luke and telling him that children should be seen and not heard.**

**Dark Humour**

The Force roiled with Vader’s anger and Luke heard, rather than saw, the Dark Lord’s hands curl into fists with a faint creak of leather. Thinking quickly Luke stepped between his father and the Moff; they needed this man alive, for now.

“I’m not sure that you are aware of who I am,” Luke said haughtily, lifting his chin and adopting the clearest Coruscanti accent that he could muster. 

The Moff laughed, clearly blind to the black mass of anger that Luke was protecting him from. “My dear boy, I don’t give a eopie’s ass who you are. Now Lord Vader and I were...”

Very quietly Luke said. “I am the Lord Vader’s son.” 

The smarmy smile on the Moff’s face suddenly stilled, he paled, eyes darting down at Luke and then up at Vader and back. The gloved hand holding the glass of expensive wine trembled, the liquid sloshing over expensive leather. “I...” 

And Luke relaxed as he felt his father’s anger fade, to be replaced with the same satisfied, dark, humour that Luke was enjoying. 

ooOOoo


	23. Last Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Papa?", Luke inquired, tentatively.

**Last Words**

**Prompt:** "Papa?", Luke inquired, tentatively.

He peered around the door, a little nervous and saw his father floating in meditation above the stone sculpted table. His father was at peace, Luke could feel it; the sereneness that came from being at one with the Force. He was loathed to disturb him.

“Papa?” he tried again. 

There was a tiny flash of irritation, that was quickly doused by the love and acceptance that Luke always felt in his father’s presence. His father cracked an eye open.

“What is it, Luke?”

“Someone’s coming.” 

And the Force crashed in. A sudden revelation that had been hidden in the darker folds...

_I am coming for you!_

...and Luke cried out and fell to his knees. “Father!” What is it?” 

Horror rattled through Obi-Wan Kenobi and he was suddenly awake, striding to his adoptive son. He gathered the boy into his arms for a brief moment and then held him at arm’s length. 

“It’s time. Get your bag, do as we have practised. Hide. Hide your presence.”

“Papa!” 

Obi-Wan glanced up, heard the far throb of a starship engine and felt the choking presence of his old friend and apprentice. He looked back at Luke and said his last words to his son. 

“Run, Luke! Run!” 

ooOOoo


	24. Swimming Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you'd have told Anakin 2 weeks ago that he'd be spending an afternoon teaching his very much alive, teenage son how to swim he wouldn't have believed it.

**Swim** **ming Lesson**

**Prompt** : **If you'd have told Anakin 2 weeks ago that he'd be spending an afternoon teaching his very much alive, teenage son how to swim he wouldn't have believed it.**

Not that Luke was doing particularly well. Vader removed his foot from Luke’s head, setting it back on the side of the pool as Luke rose from the water spluttering and coughing and red in the face.

“What.... _hacking cough_.... did you.... _spit of water_.... did you do... _cough._... that for?”

“To assist you in holding your breath,” Vader told him, as though the intent of his action had been obvious. “There may a be a time when the ability to hold one’s breath is required.” 

Luke wiped at his face, grabbed a hand rail and pulled himself out of the water. He plopped down on the side, dangling his feet into the water. “Yeah, I bet you can’t hold your breath.

“Watch,” Vader told him, with a smile in his voice. 

And Luke watched as his father reached to his chest panel and flicked a switch.

ooOOoo


	25. Boundaries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Now then", Vader said, folding his arms over his chest as Luke gulped, "perhaps you would care to explain your actions?"

**Boundaries**

Prompt: "Now then", Vader said, folding his arms over his chest as Luke gulped, "perhaps you would care to explain your actions?"

It was hard, Vader later admitted to himself, to look down into those huge, blue blinking eyes and maintain any semblance of anger, but boundaries had to be maintained, rules enforced, even for precocious three year olds. 

Luke, licked his lips, staring up at his father’s bland mask. “I fosed, daddy,” he looked serious, then grinned happily. “I fosed, ike you!” He waved his little hand a chair behind Vader tipped over.

Vader pursed his lips, fighting a smile, fighting against the pride he felt growing; his son was strong in the Force. 

Luke seemed to pick up on his father’s feelings, he bounced on his feet and happily clapped his hands. “I fosed, like daddy!” 

Now the table behind Vader jumped up and down, dishes rattling. He sighed and bent down, picking his son up and then turned to show Luke what he had done. The breakfast table was a mess with spilled milk, broken crockery and poor Threepio stood stiff and still with cereal sticking to his face and milk dripping into his wiring. The droid had quickly summoned his master and quickly shut down to preserve his inner workings from liquid and gloppy cereal. 

“We do not use the Force at breakfast, Luke,” Vader intoned sternly. 

“Ay?”

“Because the food goes in our stomach and not over droids.”

“Ay?”

“Because Threepio is going to need cleaned and his circuits checked.”

“Ay?”

“To ensure that he is not damaged.”

“Ay?”

Another sigh from the vocoder, and Vader inclined his head to look at his son in his arms; Luke’s middle finger was lodged firmly in his nose. 

It was going to be a long day.

ooOOoo


	26. I'm Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke was half asleep and barely out of the medical wing, his vision, movements and thoughts clouded and sluggish, but he still felt horribly mortified the moment after Vader pulled the blankets up to his chin and briefly laid a hand on his head, and Luke mumbled "papa".

**I'm Here**

**Prompt:** Luke was half asleep and barely out of the medical wing, his vision, movements and thoughts clouded and sluggish, but he still felt horribly mortified the moment after Vader pulled the blankets up to his chin and briefly laid a hand on his head, and Luke mumbled "papa".

It had been a childhood dream. He had imagined his father as his aunt had described him; tall, dark blond, blue eyes...

_“Your eyes, Luke. You have your father’s eyes and his chin dimple,” and she had touched a finger tip to his chin that was sticky with berry juice._

... and he would pretend that his father had returned from some far off war and that he would run to him, would jump and be caught and swung around as he cried; “Stop Papa,” laughing, giggling in delight. “Papa!” 

Reality had been brutal. Reality had crushed his dream as easily as a startled ronto could crush a speeder, or a man. 

Vader was his father; Vader, the Dark Lord of the Sith. The man who Ben had said had killed his father. The man who callously enforced his Emperor’s will. The man whose hands were soaked in the blood of millions. The man who slaughtered the Jedi Knights and hunted them for sport. The man who had tortured Leia. Tortured Han. The man who had taken his hand and... 

_“I am your father.”_

Luke fought the fuzziness of anaesthetic, struggled against the pull and temptation of peaceful unconsciousness. 

The gloved hand returned and lay heavy against his cheek.

. _..and he was five again, and he was playing and he was wishing for his father to come for him. Wishing for a ship to arrive and for his father to stride down the ramp and he would run and he would jump and his father would wrap his arms around him..._

“...pa...pa.” 

And as he slid down into sleep, as the sunslight of Tatooine glared in his dream he thought he heard a voice whisper.

“I’m here, Luke.” 

ooOOoo


	27. Bombardment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 10 years old Luke Skywalker already loved his new life, with his father (and his friend Obi-Wan) who had come two weeks ago to take him to live with him. But now Luke was afraid and tears were streaming down his face, he had had a nightmare and he longed for his father to hug him, yet he was afraid to wake him up, so instead he crawled into Anakin's bed as quietly as possible and pressed his body to his side.

**Bombardment**

**Prompt:** 10 years old Luke Skywalker already loved his new life, with his father (and his friend Obi-Wan) who had come two weeks ago to take him to live with him. But now Luke was afraid and tears were streaming down his face, he had had a nightmare and he longed for his father to hug him, yet he was afraid to wake him up, so instead he crawled into Anakin's bed as quietly as possible and pressed his body to his side. (connected to Chapter 1 and Chapter 21)

Anakin woke at the touch, of the small shivering body pressed against him. He turned, took his son into his arms and whispered, “What’s wrong Luke?”

Luke sniffled, more tears coursed down his face. “I had a bad dream.”

The sheets rustled as Anakin sat up, and quickly turned on the lights using the Force. He had platitudes ready on his lips, ones he had heard before, ones he had been told before.

_“It was only dream.”_

_“Dreams pass in time.”_

Anakin knew that was not always the case and, if Luke’s Force abilities were anything like his own, then this dream of Luke’s could be something more serious than simple, if frightening, images created by his unconscious mind. 

“Tell me,” he coaxed gently, taking Luke into his arms. and bringing the blankets over them both. 

For a moment there was quiet, the only sounds were Luke’s sniffles and the throb of the hyperdrive as it powered their small vessel across the galaxy.

“I saw ships, lots of ships,” Luke told him whispering, frightened. “Imperial ships. They were... they were...” Luke broke into sobs.

Anakin waited, his own Force senses casting a sense of foreboding throughout his body. This was more than a dream, and he held his son’s sobbing body tightly. He lifted a hand, placed it gently to Luke’s head. “Let me look, Luke.”

A little nod.

Anakin closed his eyes, feeling his son yield to his gentle mind probe, and there was...

_a mass of ships exiting hyperspace around a planet... Tatooine... one lone shuttle descending. The Lars farm, abandoned. Stormtroopers ransacking, searching... finding a room with little boys toys and clothes. A dark figure, with white, gnarled, hands clasped before them._

_Rage. So much anger and hatred at being denied his prize._

_The ships... all the ships. Moving in. The shuttle leaving. And then...._

_fire!_

_As one, all the Stardestroyers began pounding the planet with cannon fire._

_Mos Eisley._

_Mos Espa._

_Beggars Canyon._

_The Hutt’s palace._

_The farm._

_Anchorhead._

_The Dune Sea._

_Owen and Beru huddling in the old settlers hut. Beru crying as the air outside turned to flames and the hut...._

Luke cried out. Screamed! 

Anakin was thrown from Luke’s mind. 

The door to the tiny cabin slashed open and Obi-Wan stood there, hair dishevelled, face pale, robes loose as though just thrown on. 

“Anakin, I sense...”

The younger man nodded, held his son close as the boy wept. His eyes, his own weeping eyes, met Obi-Wan’s. His voice was hoarse, “He’s found out about Luke’s existence as we feared.” 

“Tatooine...” Obi-Wan stated flatly, his voice full of horror.

Anakin tightened his arms around Luke who was lost in his grief and fear. “Gone.” It was true, he could feel it now in the Force; the space where once life existed.

Obi-Wan sank to the bunk’s thin mattress. He slumped, head down, hands clasped between his knees. “What do you want to do? If he knows about Luke...” 

“We stay on this path,” Anakin stated, with some surety. “It’s the right one, I feel it and so do you.”

Obi-Wan nodded he reach out, placed a hand on small blond head of the weeping child. Luke was tired, worn, body sore from sobbing. He looked to Anakin who nodded sadly, then he closed his eyes, gathered the Force to him and quietly suggested. “Luke, sleep.”

ooOOoo


	28. Stunned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader couldn't believe that his servant had dared speak to his son like that.

** Stunned **

**Prompt: Vader couldn't believe that his servant had dared speak to his son like that.**

There was a stunned silence in the room, an uncomfortably charged beat of time as all conversation ceased, eating utensils paused on expensive porcelain plates and mouths paused mid chew.

All eyes turned to the young Imperial Prince sitting at the right hand side of his father, the Emperor.

The young man took time to dab at his lips with his napkin. He folded it and placed it over his half eaten meal. Then, without even a glance to his father whose rage he could feel building within the Force, he calmly and evenly asked, “What did you say?”

The serving girl leaned in as though to whisper in the Prince’s ear, but said quite plainly and loudly. “I’m pregnant!” 

The silence dragged, the guests at the dinner table shifted in their chairs, eyes straying away from the family drama at the top of the table, not daring to even glance at the Emperor Vader, whose gloved hands had curled into fists. The ruler’s face had paled, his blue eyes had flashed golden; a sure sign of his displeasure. 

Prince Luke nodded once, his own face stoic and unmoved. He stiffly pushed his chair away from the table, the feet squealing on the floor. He stood and turned to the girl, who was now chewing her bottom lip nervously. Luke placed his hands on her hips and looked deep into her eyes for a few, long, seconds. 

Then he burst with laughter; the sound delightful and light. Wrapping his arms around the girl he lifted her off her feet and spun her around. She giggled, embracing his neck and planting a kiss on his cheek. Luke turned his mouth to her’s and they kissed deeply, passionately. 

Another scrape of a chair as Vader stood and the whole table followed suit; all guests standing. 

“Father!” Luke called, placing the girl on her feet, keeping his arm around her, keeping her close to him. “May I present Mara Jade,” he grinned mischievously, “my wife!” 

ooOOoo


	29. Look Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Luke,” Leia snaps, “how many days has it been since you’ve slept? Since you’ve had an actual meal that’s not just caf?” “I’m sorry,” is all that Luke is able to whisper in response

** Look Alive **

**Prompt: “Luke,” Leia snaps, “how many days has it been since you’ve slept? Since you’ve had an actual meal that’s not just caf?” “I’m sorry,” is all that Luke is able to whisper in response**

Leia slid onto the bench to sit opposite to her new friend and reached over the table, covering his hands with her own. His fingers curled around hers. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, echoing him, “I didn’t mean to snap. I guess we’re all tired.”

Luke lifted his head, taking his eyes away from the cup of caf on the table between them. He was pale; the tan of Tatooine, fading fast and his eyes were red rimmed and heavy with fatigue. Leia could smell the staleness of him, of his body and dirty flight suit. Like all the pilots, and they got fewer every day, Luke simply had not had the time to wash and change between the Imperial attacks on the fleet. They had been jumping system to system and still the Empire bore down on them within a few minutes. 

Leia sighed, “Command is convinced we have a traitor in our midst. It’s the only explanation for them being able to pinpoint us so soon after each jump.”

Releasing a hand from her’s Luke rubbed at his neck, scratched at the tiny pin pricks speckling the skin there. 

“How many stims shots have you had?” She asked with concern in her voice. She’d had five herself in the last few days.

Luke pulled his collar up, shrugged, “I lost count after eight,” he told her, reaching with a trembling hand for his cup of caf. “I couldn’t sleep right now, even if I wanted to.” 

“You should eat something,” she motioned with her head toward the counter at the other other end of the mess. 

Luke shook his head and his usually light locks of hair, now dark and sweat plastered around the base of neck, didn’t bounce as they had when they first met aboard the Death Star. “No appetite,” he told her. It was an after effect of the stim shots. 

They still held one hand across the table. The fingers of Luke’s free hand was wrapped around a cup that he had yet to drink from. Leia glanced around them and saw other pilots, all sitting like Luke, hunched over and quiet. She locked eyes with Wedge Antilles and he nodded in acknowledgement before going back to study the plate of food in front of him; he had yet to lift his fork.

Squeezing Luke’s hand she said, “Luke, I...”

“All pilots. All pilots. Report to your ships. Hyperspace reversion in ten minutes.”

The mess suddenly erupted into movement and noise as the pilots rose and called to each other. 

“Heads up, guys!”

“Let’s go!”

“Time for more pay back!” 

Luke stood, hand pulling away from Leia’s leaving her feeling suddenly bereft. He grabbed his helmet from the bench beside him and she glanced up at him. His eyes were alive, shining with something she couldn’t name; excitement? Fear? Anticipation?

“Look alive, Red Five!” Wedge called as he jogged passed.

Luke smiled at Leia, nodded and turned to follow his wingman.

“Luke!” the Princess called and he glanced around at her while still walking away. “May the Force be with you!”

And he was gone.

ooOOoo


	30. Gossip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The idea of Rebel soldiers finding out Luke is Vader's son and they are freaking out for a completely different reason because no one can imagine Vader having sex. Who would come that close to that creepy edge Lord? But also his son is quite good looking, and above all Luke is damn adorable. Now they wonder if Vader looks anything like Luke because it's a hilarious idea.

**Gossip**

**Prompt:** **The idea of Rebel soldiers finding out Luke is Vader's son and they are freaking out for a completely different reason because no one can imagine Vader having sex. Who would come that close to that creepy edge Lord? But also his son is quite good looking, and above all Luke is damn adorable. Now they wonder if Vader looks anything like Luke because it's a hilarious idea.**

Feemi leaned in not believing what she had just heard. Perhaps the Ewok drums and the loud calls of delight and welcome from the rebels around them when others joined the party, had stolen some of Rikard’s words, or maybe she was just a little too drunk on the home made brew the Ewoks were happily serving up. “Say that again?” 

Rikard grinned, leaned into her ear and shouted loudly, “I said we captured a stormie who said he was there when Skywalker was captured. Said the Commander had surrendered himself,” he paused, took another drink, and leaned in again. “He said he’d accompanied Vader himself to the moon to take possession of the prisoner and overheard the commander and Vader talk.” He swallowed more brew, Adam’s apple bobbing, and gave the coup de grace. “He said that Skywalker called Vader ‘father!’” 

Feemi, felt her breath freeze in her lungs. “No....” she breathed, in disbelief.

Rikard nodded energetically, “and.. and... Vader called Skywalker, ‘son.’” 

“No....” Feemi said again, she lifted her head, looking around the crowded Ewok village trying to find Skywalker in the crowd. She spotted him sitting forehead to forehead with the Princess Organa, they seemed deep in conversation and she suddenly wondered if the Princess knew that she was talking to the son of Darth Vader. 

And it was then that something disturbing occurred to her. She grimaced in disgust. “I wonder who his mother was, I mean, she’d have to be pretty desperate to have sex with Darth Vader.”

Rikard spat his drink, coughed, and Feemi pounded his back. “Geez, Feems!” He laughed. 

“I mean,” she continued, still looking across at Luke Skywalker. “How would that even work? Did he even have a co...”

Her friend coughed harder, half spluttering and half guffawing, drink spilling from his tumbler.

Feemi just grinned. “The Commander must take after his mother, right? I mean he’s cute, no way would Vader be that cute, right?” 

Rikard drew in a deep breath, wiped at his eyes and followed Feemi’s gaze. “Cute?” he echoed, “Look at him, all in black. Honey, he’s sex on legs... and with that ass...” 

Feemi hit him on the arm. “I saw him first...”

“Did not, I was with the Alliance before you. I was on Yavin and watched that lil butt strut to the dais before the evacuation.” 

She fell silent, her eyes still on the topic of conversation. When she spoke again, she sounded a little more serious. “Would you bed the son of Darth Vader?” 

“Only if he promised to use the Force on me...” 

ooOOoo


	31. Patience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite the fact that the merging of times and worlds was causing chaos one stood calmly as the others schemed, This Luke was unlike Vader's own son and went by the name of Darth Patience. He grinned brightly and greeted the others kindly, he cooed a greeting to his father. Despite his kindness venom spewed from his lips and the void rest within his eyes. "Do you know why they call me Darth Patience?"

**Patience**

**Prompt:** **Despite the fact that the merging of times and worlds was causing chaos one stood calmly as the others schemed, This Luke was unlike Vader's own son and went by the name of Darth Patience. He grinned brightly and greeted the others kindly, he cooed a greeting to his father. Despite his kindness venom spewed from his lips and the void rest within his eyes. "Do you know why they call me Darth Patience?"**

The young Sith Lord sipped at the glass of dark red wine, he ran the liquid over his tongue, savouring the flavour and the bitter tones. He swallowed and raised his eyes to his dinner companions. No one met his gaze, no one ate their meal or drank from their cups and no one spoke a reply. His mouth quirked into a smirk, and he took another sip before setting his glass down. 

His eyes trailed around the table, pausing briefly on each person before moving on. The Grand Moff Tarkin, Director Orson Krennic, The Grand Admiral Thrawn, Senator and Viceroy Bail Organa, his daughter the Princess Leia Organa, Senator Mon Mothma, and Mas Amedda. All beings who held positions of power, some in the military and defence and others in the Senate. 

“My father,” he continued, ignoring the unease among his guests, was not a patient man. He lifted his fork, used it to gesture at them, “you all knew him, met him,” and speared a thin sliver of raw meat which he placed with deliberate slowness into his mouth, eyes briefly closing at the cool taste. He swallowed without chewing. “My father wanted everything now, right away, immediately.” And this time a self-deprecating smile. “I will bear the scars of his impatience until my own death. Lessons learned.”

There was an uncomfortable shuffle and Patience’s eyes followed the movement to Leia Organa. The smallest and youngest of the group; she was tiny, dark haired and dark eyed. Pretty. His master had even suggested a marriage between them, if only to shut her very vocal father up. 

She felt his gaze and lifted her own eyes and for the briefest moment they were locked together. Patience lifted his glass, raised it in acknowledgement to her and took drink. Setting the glass down, he stood and pushed away from the table. 

The red guards around the room stiffened, ready to respond if needed.

The other’s remained seated. 

“The Emperor,” Patience continued, as he walked around the dining room fingers trailing across the rich tapestries of ancient Sith battles that hung heavy on the walls. “Well, my master was something else, wasn’t he? He understood the need for patience. He masterminded the Clone Wars; controlled both the Republic and the Separatives; built two massive armies to fight against one another with one single purpose in mind; the death of the Jedi Order.” 

Someone cleared their throat, “Majesty...” 

Patience turned on his heels, a shadow of anger passed over his face at the interruption and his golden, blood rimmed eyes, fixed on Tarkin, but his voice remained neutral, placid. “You disagree, Governor?”

Tarkin licked his thin lips. “The Emperor was...”

“I am Emperor,” Patience stated.

Tarkin nodded, “Yes, Excellency. I, of course, mean the late Emperor Palpatine. He was a man of vision, a man who recognised how disordered the Galaxy had become. His dream was one of order and...”

Patience tore the tapestry from the wall; fabric ripping, fixings popping and cracking. It fell to the floor, crumpling into heaps of discarded fabric. 

Tarkin fell silent and the tension in the room thickened. 

The young, new, ruler, paused, took a breath, and tugged down his tunic, straightening it, smoothing it. He turned around to look at his guests and at Tarkin in particular. When he spoke, his voice remained neutral. “I am afraid Governor, that you are wrong. The Empire, the power, the so-called order he founded were but the by-products of one desire. Revenge upon the Jedi. His sole desire was their obliteration.”

Tarkin, swallowed thickly, “Of course, Excellency.” 

Patience nodded at the man’s acquiescence. Then he continued, “This is what I learned from my Master - patience. How to wait. How to build from the very bottom up, how to gather people close and foster loyalty, and all the while remain focused on your single goal.

“Palpatine thought it humorous to title me ‘Darth Patience,’ not a name one generally associates with a Sith Lord. Their names are generally ones that speak of power or darkness; Maul, Tyrannus, Bane and of course his own, Sidious.” He turned around, an ill placed grin splitting his face, his facial scars tugging tightly, “of course my father’s name was another joke; Darth Vader - the Dark Father, for of course Palpatine knew all about me growing in my mother’s womb when my father turned.”

His eyes caught Leia’s Organa’s once more. She was watching him intently, her face pale and taut and his smile faded. 

“So,” he suddenly announced louder, raising his hands palms out. “Here we are. My moment. My goal.”

He could see frowns crease faces, Amedda looked across at Krennic. Krennic seemed confused and turned to Tarkin, Organa reached out a hand and took his daughter’s, Thrawn stiffened and beside him Mothma’s eyes flared as though she had only just understood something.

Twin lightsabers dropped into Patience’s hands, red blades hissed and hummed into life and he pivoted on the balls of his feet, felling the two closest Imperial Guards. The dinner guests cried out, stumbled back from the table and blasters were drawn but no-one seemed to know who the enemy was, the Red Clad Guards? The others at the table? The Emperor? 

Then it was too late; Tarkin was behead, Krennic stabbed through the heart, Amedda’s throat cut and four more heaps of red robes littered the floor. 

“Luke!” A voice cried, a plea. “Stop!” 

The Emperor’s blades were at Thrawn’s throat, the boy’s face a grimace of pain and fury. Then a small hand was laid upon one of his hands. “It is enough.”

A breath, a shiver of unspent energy and the blades were extinguished. Patience looked down upon the admiral lying on the floor before him. Thrawn was glancing between the boy and the girl with confusion as Organa was helping Mothma to her feet, and one lone, Red Guard was removing his helmet to reveal tousled brown hair and a prominent scar on his chin. 

“Admiral,” The Princess Organa said, “You are a man of honour and I feel we have much to discuss.” 

Thrawn’s red eyes slid to his young Emperor’s; Patience nodded. “Listen to her, Admiral, to her and to her father.”

The Admiral climbed to his feet and, as Patience did earlier, he tugged down his tunic. “I admit, Sire, that I am somewhat confused.” 

Patience glanced up at the taller man, and Thrawn noticed the colouring of his eyes change from golden to a vibrant blue as though life were filling the void. “I told you last night,” Patience stated. “That today was about consolidating my power.” He nodded to the bodies, “This is only the beginning and I would prefer that you were by my side.” 

“Admiral,” a deep voice, invited and Bail Organa stepped behind the two younger people. 

“Of course,” Thrawn agreed, but he paused, appraising the young man before him, before asking. “Who are you?”

The boy smiled, but a deep sadness darkened his eyes. “I am Emperor. I am Darth Patience,” he paused and continued. “I am the son of Darth Vader. I am the son of Anakin Skywalker,” then he shrugged and admitted, “and I am yet to discover who I really am.” 

ooOOoo


	32. Fatherhood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was in moments like this that Vader began to wonder wether his son had made it his life's purpose to irritate him

** Fatherhood **

**Prompts:** **It was in moments like this that Vader began to wonder wether his son had made it his life's purpose to irritate him.**

He patted Threepio’s shoulder, “I’ll take it from here.”

“Oh, thank you Master Anak…. Uh,” the droid visibly shuddered. “Vader..” He finished lamely, and quickly scuttled off. 

Vader stood for a moment taking in the mess of his apartment. Upended sofa’s, fallen light fixtures, a toppled over side table, broken lamp, food dripping down the walls and in the middle of it sat his three-year-old son. Luke’s hair was wet with milk and the blue fluid had begun to dry and crust on his cheeks. His clothes were in disarray and he had somehow lost his pants and sat bared legged in his underwear. 

At that moment he had his blue eyes solidly fixed on the stuffed toy Hutt that was floating around the room. 

“Luke,” he began, in the voice that would make Admirals and Generals tremble in their shoes, but Luke merely glanced around and grinned.

“I make it float, Dadda!” 

Vader suppressed his smile and his pride…

_dammit if Luke didn’t continually bring out the light side in him_

…and strode over to his young son. “There is a time and place for using the Force, young one and this is not it.” 

Luke opened his mouth to speak.

Vader immediately lifted his finger. “No!” he barked. “Do not ask why!”

The little boy’s face crumpled, lip trembling. 

“Do not cry.”

Luke’s brow furrowed, mouth turned down, and tears streamed as he began to wail. 

Vader sighed wearily as he picked Luke up from the floor and held him close. He had thought being a Sith Lord and The Emperor’s second in command was difficult, but being a father was much harder. 

Threepio tried his best, but he was a protocol droid. Perhaps it was time for a nanny? 

Luke sniffed and wiped his nose on his father’s robes. 

ooOOoo


	33. The Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking up handcuffed to the copilots seat of an Imperial Shuttle right next to Darth Vader himself, was not how Luke had expected his mission to end.

** The Call **

**Prompt: Waking up handcuffed to the copilots seat of an Imperial Shuttle right next to Darth Vader himself, was not how Luke had expected his mission to end.**

His head thumped; a deep heavy throb that cascaded nausea through his body and he groaned, leaning forward fearful that he may vomit into his lap. The world tilted, completed a slow cycle, and his vision blurred. He dry gagged, each heave of his body doubling the pain in his head. 

A gloved hand... Vader’s hand... touched his bruised temple and he felt, rather than heard, the command.

“Sleep.”

When he woke again, he was still cuffed to the chair; each wrist fastened to the sides of the back support. His head still hurt but the pain was more tolerable, a dull ache rather than a tsunami of crushing agony. He cracked his eyes open, having to force his left eyelid up to free it from the wash of dried blood that he knew was plastered to his face from the head wound. 

He chanced a glance to the man in the pilot’s chair. He was middle aged, tall and dressed in black tunic and black robes, brown hair sprinkled with grey, face pale, lips pressed together. 

Darth Vader; the Emperor’s right hand Sith Lord. 

Luke tugged his wrists against the restraints and instantly regretted it as pain spiked in his head once more. 

“Do not resist, boy,” Vader warned, not looking at him. 

“Why?” Luke croaked, horrified at how weak his voice sounded, but determined not to give this man any satisfaction, “because you’ll kill me?”

The man beside him chuckled, “that is unlikely.”

Fear twisted in Luke’s gut this time, but he nodded in certainty. “No, of course not,” he agreed with a shiver of fear. “You need to interrogate me first.”

Fabric rustled as Vader turned from the view of twisting hyperspace to regard him with some amusement. Luke was surprised to find that Vader’s eyes were as blue as his own and at the moment they sparkled with humour and something else... Something that Luke couldn’t quite define. 

“That is also unlikely,” Vader told him. 

Luke frowned, trying to piece together what was happening. He had been exploring an abandoned Rebel base on Atollon when he had been attacked by huge spider like creatures. He had fought them, used the Force to push them back, only to send himself tumbling down a bluff. The last thing he had seen before darkness had claimed him was a huge rock rushing toward him.

How had Vader found him?

“You called to me,” Vader stated. “I came.”

Luke scoffed, winced, tested the restraints. “No, I didn’t,” he denied, indignantly.

There was a sigh from beside him, but Vader continued as he looked away. “I have felt your call all your life, Luke. I felt your loneliness, your fears, your longing...”

“You are the last person I would call, too,” Luke drawled, feeling anger coil within, how dare this man... his enemy... claim such a connection. He had never called him, never uttered his name with anything but scorn and contempt. 

In truth, there was only one man he had ever longed for, only one man he spoke to within his head and, he admitted, sometimes out loud when there was no-one else around. Only one man who mattered...

His father.

Once more Vader turned to regard him, waiting... 

ooOOoo


	34. Longing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you write some more with Luke and suitless Vader please? Maybe a continuation of that oneshot you just posted of Luke waking up on a ship next to Vader?

**Longing**

**Prompt:** **Could you write some more with Luke and suitless Vader please? Maybe a continuation of that oneshot you just posted of Luke waking up on a ship next to Vader?**

Luke could feel Vader’s intense gaze upon him, could feel the expectation and anticipation in the Force. His head ached, and the silence dragged, each second of it thumped to the beat of his heart. 

No. No. That wasn’t what Vader was telling him. 

His father.

Luke’s longing had been for his father. 

The father he had dreamed was a hero, but who he had been told was a navigator on a spice freighter. 

It was only on meeting Obi-Wan Kenobi that he had learned the truth. 

Anakin Skywalker had been a Jedi Knight. 

It had devastated him to lose Ben, not just because the old Master had agreed to train him, not just because he had become almost dependent on the elder man to show him how to navigate the galaxy, but because only Obi-Wan could tell him more about his father. 

He had been surprised and heartened to learn that others knew of Anakin, that his father had made a name for himself. 

Hero with no fear! 

And who had been reported dead after the attack on the Jedi Temple. 

And now this man, who sat across from him, who was still watching him intently was wanting him him to believe that…

“If you sensed my longing all my life,” he said, dully, “why didn’t you come.”

Vader sighed, feeling Luke’s acceptance slide home, feeling the boy’s empty sense of abandonment. “I wanted you to have what I did not.”

There was a stir of anger from Luke, a spike of resentment in the Force. “And what was that?” Luke snapped.

Vader turned his eyes back to the twisting lights of hyperspace. “A childhood.”

ooOOoo


	35. The Strike

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. The boy was infuriating, but, he realised grimly, he shouldn't have struck him.

** The Strike **

**Prompt: Vader sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. The boy was infuriating, but, he realised grimly, he shouldn't have struck him.**

That was mistake. A grave error, but there was no way to take it back now. What was done, was done. 

“Get up,” he growled, not so much angry with Luke but with himself and not just for hitting Luke, but for lashing out in front of Piett and the bridge crew, who were all now studiously examining their instruments and readouts, or staring out the view ports in the opposite direction from Vader and his son. 

Luke was on his hands and knees, blood and saliva trailing ribbons from his mouth, dripping and running to the floor. Luke hawked, and spat out a crimson gloop that spattered the deck plate. A shaking hand went to his temple.

“I said, get up!” 

Luke remained where he was and Vader could feel his son’s pain and disbelief through the Force. The blow had burst his nose, his lip and had sent him careening into the wall. He had struck hard, the breath driven from him. It had taken a few minutes for Luke to even make it up to his hands and knees. 

Vader strode over, grabbed the back of Luke’s collar and dragged him up. “I will not ask again, young one,” he warned, setting Luke on is feet. His son stood for a moment, swaying, head down, blood streaming from his nose and mouth down his chin and dripping onto his jacket and the floor. 

Slowly Luke lifted his head, his face pale and bloodied, and glared at his father. “You hit me?” It was a statement said as a question and Vader could feel Luke’s anger beginning to build from beneath his incredulity and hurt.

“You will not talk back to me, Luke,” Vader double downed on the incident, his own anger beginning to rise again and he was still keenly aware that the bridge crew were seeing and hearing everything even if they were trying very hard not to. “You will show the same respect as any of my men.”

Luke’s eyes narrowed at that last word. “I am not one of your men,” he reminded Vader, then hastily took a step back when his father’s right hand tightened into a first, but it didn’t deter him. “I will show respect when you show restraint.”

Vader visibly stiffened with rage, however he relaxed his hand and instead of hitting out he raised it, pointing in Luke’s face, his voice furious when he spoke. “You are an officer on this ship and you will obey me.”

Luke laughed, he sounded hysterical, and with the back of a trembling hand he wiped away some of the flood from his face. More wept to replace it. “Obey?” he rasped, his eyes flashing with his own temper. “If it’s blind obedience you wanted father then you should never have had a son, you should have bought a slave!” 

A stunned silence fell over the bridge as all present froze. A chill descended, palpable to all. Vader’s eyes flashed deep amber, obscuring all of the blue. His hand dropped.

Luke swallowed, tasted blood, suddenly aware that he had crossed several lines far more grievous than the one that had earned him a back hand from his father.

“Leave,” Vader told him, darkly. “Leave now.”

Luke licked his split lip, took a faltering step forward, desperation to try and sort this situation galvanising him. His heart hammered in his chest, his head throbbed with sharp lances. “Father....” he tried. 

“You are dismissed,” Vader hissed.

Luke could feel the pressure in the Force, could feel his father’s fury and the loosening of control. His feet faltered, legs still unsteady from the blow to his face, he nodded, wiped away more blood and he turned on his heels and collapsed to the floor in a heap. 

All he was aware of before unconsciousness took him was a spike of terror in the Force from his father, and shout of “Medic!” There was the sound of running boots and then.... nothing. 

ooOOoo


	36. Awake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke looked up to see his father's face inches away from his own, concern written all over his features.
> 
> This is a continuation of The Strike

Awake

**Prompt:** **Luke looked up to see his father's face inches away from his own, concern written all over his features.**

He closed his eyes again, dragged down by a fatigue he could not fight and fell into a cushioning blackness. 

“Luke...”

“Luke...”

“My son...”

“Can you hear me...”

His eyelids felt heavy and it took effort to raise them. He winced at the light, at the brightness and pain of it. His eyes slid shut again.

“Stay awake, Luke,” a voice bade him. “Luke, stay with us.”

Again he opened his eyes. The light was dimmer, blocked by a blurry face. 

“Luke?”

“Wh... muh...?” He tried to speak, but his mouth felt strange, his tongue felt dense, thick and too big. 

Someone took his hand, fingers sliding into his, squeezing. “It’s okay, you’re safe, Luke.”

He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his sight, trying to chase the fog from his head and for a moment focused on his father’s face. Vader’s eyes were narrowed by concern, his brow low, lips pressed tightly together.

“Muh, head.. hut,” he mumbled around his tongue, as the blur returned, “Muh face.”

The hand holding his flexed and tightened. “You are in the medical bay,” Vader explained. “You sustained a head injury. A concussion, and a broken nose. Both will heal.”

Luke licked at his dry lips, probed gently at a sore spot with the tip of his tongue. He tasted blood. He turned his head, wincing at the thumping pain that resulted. He looked over and up at his father sitting beside him as a knowing, rather than a memory, came to him. “You... hit... me.” 

Vader’s eyes cast down and away, a momentary lapse of control as shame flickered briefly in his features. Then his amber flecked, blue eyes met with Luke’s own. “Yes,” he stated, firmly, “and I am sorry that you are injured as a result.”

“But not,” Luke started tiredly, feeling drowsy again already, and he had to force out, “sorry... that.. you.. did it.”

Vader was quiet for a long while and Luke thought that perhaps he had fallen asleep after all, had passed out before he could hear his father’s answer. Then a thumb stroked the back of his hand, and fingers brushed the bangs from his bruised face.

“With all my heart, Luke,” he heard, before sleep claimed him again.

ooOOoo


	37. Buns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breakfast was the most important meal of the day " Hey Leia look! We're Twins!" Luke holds up two cinnamon rolls on each side of his head. Han follows and uses his own to copy luke " Me too princess!"

** Buns **

**Prompt:** **Breakfast was the most important meal of the day " Hey Leia look! We're Twins!" Luke holds up two cinnamon rolls on each side of his head. Han follows and uses his own to copy luke " Me too princess!"**

Leia glared at the two pilots holding the breakfast pastries to their ears. “You two moon jockeys are still drunk,” she told them.

Han turned to view Luke’s blood shot eyes. “She’s right you know.”

Luke speared his new friend with a glare, grinned in good humour, and then placed one pastry on top of the other and munched down on them both. Crumbs rained on the table top.

Leia gave a sigh of disgust, and rolled her eyes. “Luke, we have as much chance of being twins,” she stated, haughtily, as she placed her own plate down, smoothed her dress and sat opposite them, “as Solo does of giving me a child.”

Luke choked, spitting crumbs. 

Han slowly lowered his cinnamon rolls, mouth agape.

ooOOoo


	38. Infection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As his vision started to refocus, Luke strained to remember the last few hours -days?- a bacta tank, anaesthesics, medical droids, pain and fever. He couldn't quite place the rest of it, the only thing that stood out starkly in his mind was the image of Darth Vader -his father!- who had, more than once, just like now, stood next to his cot, his brows furrowed as he looked down at him, occasionally brushing the hair from Luke's forehead, his blue eyes boring into the other pair of identical ones.  
> I know the prompt suggests a suitless Vader however, that isn’t what came to me. This is a scene that I have played with for a while and is (maybe) connected to my Invictus universe (Yes, I have still to finish editing the rest of Insidious!). My apologies to the Asker for not sticking to the prompt.

** Infection **

**Prompt:** **As his vision started to refocus, Luke strained to remember the last few hours -days?- a bacta tank, anaesthesics, medical droids, pain and fever. He couldn't quite place the rest of it, the only thing that stood out starkly in his mind was the image of Darth Vader -his father!- who had, more than once, just like now, stood next to his cot, his brows furrowed as he looked down at him, occasionally brushing the hair from Luke's forehead, his blue eyes boring into the other pair of identical ones.**

**Infection**

Luke’s vision cleared and with it his father swam into focus; a bulk of black blocking his view of the room. His father’s regulated breathing was in stark contrast to his own shallow gasps. 

“Wh...,” he tried, but his voice failed him. He was exhausted and weak and being so vulnerable scared him. He had never been this weak, never been so at the mercy of his father, not since the abandoned hut on Tatooine when Palpatine had introduced him to his father and he had been left injured and poisoned to either live, or die. 

He could feel something on his face, something tight over his nose and chin and he could hear the faint hiss of oxygen, could smell the clinical odour of plastics.

A mask. 

Vader seemed to know what he was trying to ask. “You are on my ship,” he informed Luke. “Heading to Imperial Centre.”

Luke closed his eyes, fighting both terror and tiredness. He was still sore; the pain lying heavy in his bones; its weight holding him down, impeding his breathing. “Wha... hap...n...d?”

There was the sound of a bootstep on the floor, a rustle of robes and Luke knew that his father had come closer to his bed.

It was a bed, right, and not a detention centre bunk?

He closed his eyes, floated away and then opened them again. Vader still stood by his bed. How long had he shut his eyes for, how long had he been away? A few minutes, a few hours? 

“You were injured and your wound has become infected, a strain of bacteria that the medics have never seen before. Your fatigues were infested with it. It would assist in your treatment if you were to tell us where you have been.”

_A pool of rancid water. Humid swampland. Mud and rain._

_“My home this is.”_

“We... fo...fought,” Luke said, deflecting. It was statement of fact because no-one other than his father had the ability to best him. Unless Luke allowed them, unless he feigned weakness to flatter and charm an enemy; to allure them closer as a sand-viper does their prey before striking.

Vader nodded, gravely, the lights of the medical bay shifting on the sharp angles of his mask. His breathing harsh. “Yes.”

Luke swallowed. His throat was dry and the movement hurt. He nodded, remembering the reddish glow of the carbon freezing chamber and the steps to where his father stood. He remembered the steam, the curling, insidious, cold. “Beh... Bespin.” He remembered the duel, the battle, the blue on red of their lightsabers. He remembered the sweep of his father’s sword, remembered his.. “My... hand...”

Again Vader nodded, confirming Luke’s knowledge but, like his son, he deflected. “Our Master awaits our arrival, Luke,” he warned. “It has been too long, and he is most displeased with your refusals to comply with his demands.”

Luke stared at the ceiling, eyes unblinking in the unforgiving brightness of the medbay. He knew this day would come. He knew he would face his master’s retribution for his rebellion.

“You were unwise to believe that we could not sense the changes within the Force, the changes within you, as you trained with the Jedi. You have the stench of Master Yoda on you.” Vader’s gloved fist curled around the rail of the bed. It squealed, bent. 

Weak as he was, as sore as he was, Luke laughed. It was humourless, and it sent a wave of agony rippling though his head. “He... did... not know... what,” he rested a moment before continuing, “what... I.. was.”

“Do not be fooled by arrogance, Luke. Yoda is more astute than you know.”

“He was... fooled... by... Palpatine for... decades,” he focused on Vader’s eye lenses, wondering if they were blue like his own at that moment. A trickle of sweat trailed down the side his brow. “As... were... you.”

Vader stiffened, lifted his hand away from the bed, and a smile curled Luke’s mouth; his father never liked his weaknesses being pointed out. 

“We will arrive within the day,” Vader told him stiffly and the Dark Lord turned to leave.

“Da... Dagobah,” Luke whispered from beneath the mask. He could feel himself drifting again. “I was... on Dagobah.”

The black mask dipped in acknowledgement and Vader stepped from the room. 

In the quiet, in the silence, Luke sank away from the lights and again he saw the figure of his father standing by his bunk, blue eyes filled with concern as he swept sweat drenched hair from his son’s brow. 

ooOOoo


	39. Black and White

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leia and Han stared, mouths agape, at the lighting scars covering Luke’s back, chest and neck.

**Prompt:** **Leia and Han stared, mouths agape, at the lighting scars covering Luke’s back, chest and neck.**

**Black and White**

They stood in silence behind their friend as Luke, seemingly unaware of their presence, reached for his under-shirt drew it on and tucked it into his pants. His jacket was next; still black, still tailored similar to those of the Jedi Knights of old. His tabard and robes lay waiting on the Falcon’s gaming table. 

Luke fastened the last clasp and with an amused sigh he said. ”I know you are both there.”

Leia took the first step into the passenger compartment. “I’m sorry, Luke,” she told him, “we thought you would have been dressed by now. We didn’t mean to intrude.”

“Hey,” he smiled down at her, then up at Han. “I’m crashing on your ship, remember?” He kissed his sister’s cheek, “Good morning.”

Han cut across the area, “Caf?” he offered heading toward the galley area he has installed at Leia’s request, leaving his wife to speak with her brother in peace. 

Both twins responded with “Yes, please,” and Han set to work.

Leia lifted Luke’s tabard and handed the black cloth to him. “You need a new wardrobe,” she said. 

Luke smiled. “I have all I need,” he assured her. 

“Do you, Luke?”

His blue eyes found her brown. His eyes they had discovered came from their father, hers from their mother. “Leia, I have the clothes on my back. I have a purpose. I have friends and I have you,” he glanced down at her growing belly. “And I have family. That is more than I ever thought I would ever have.” 

Leia noticed the “have,” which was not the same as “need.”

“But you still carry the pain, Luke,” she observed. She meant the scars, of course, but she also meant so much more.

He stepped away, drew on his tabard, belted it. “I knew you were there,” he said, “I knew you saw.” 

His unspoken words were “and I knew you wouldn’t let it go.” Leia sat on the couch, watching her brother. “Do they still hurt?”

He hesitated, and Leia knew he was debating lying to her. “Yes,” he said, honestly, “sometimes.” 

“It’s been year, Luke. Over a year,” don’t you think that it’s time for them to be looked at again?” 

Luke lifted his robe from the table to make room and sat down behind it with his cloak over his knees. Leia didn’t miss the flicker of a grimace on his brother’s face. 

“I did,” he told her, “Bacta doesn’t work, surgery isn’t really an option given the amount of scarring. They say it is healing, just very slowly.”

“And the Force?” Leia asked, leaning forward. “Can’t you use it to heal yourself?”

Luke smiled distantly, his thumb drawing a lazy pattern over the chequered board, reminding Leia of their escape from the Death Star. It had been one of those rare moments that she had seen Luke pause to mourn, to feel. 

Bespin was another. 

“There is still so much that I don’t know,” he said quietly, shaking his head. “That’s why I asked for this lift to Coruscant; it’s time for me to search the old temple.”

“The Palace,” Leia stated, with a shudder. As a young senator she had attended one of Palpatine’s rare functions. “I felt nauseous from the moment I entered to moment I left.”

“I’ll take a bucket with me,” Luke quipped, and Leia laughed seeing the mischievous spark return to his eyes. It seemed the moment was over and Luke was moving on.

Just as Han appeared with two steaming mugs, Leia reached over and took his hand. “You know,” she stated, picking at Luke’s black sleeve, “I think you’d suit white.”

Luke looked down at himself. “Farm-boy white?” He asked lifting his eyebrows.

Leia nodded. “Farm-boy white,” she confirmed. 

ooOOoo


	40. Expendable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Could you continue on your last suitless vader ficlet? Maybe the argument before? It's so good!

**Prompt:** **Could you continue on your last suitless vader ficlet? Maybe the argument before? It's so good!**

This was supposed to be the argument before The Strike, but silly me didn't go back and check what I wrote for the prompt and this is what happened. If you squint it fits!

**Expendable**

Luke’s feet landed on the deck plates and he tore his off his black helmet, lobbing it across the hanger with a furious cry of frustration and disgust. It hit against a gantry, bounced off and clattered to the floor. 

“Sir!” a voice called, somewhat timorously, but with enough volume that it caught his attention. 

“I’ll pick it up later,” Luke snapped, turning on the deck officer. “I would advise you not to...”

The officer licked his lips, nervously shifted his feet. “No, sir, I... it’s your father. He’s on the bridge.”

Luke heaved in a breath. “He wants to see me.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes, sir.”

Luke brushed sweat laden hair from his forehead, could smell the sour musk of his own body from beneath his flight suit. He needed a shower. He needed to debrief his squad...

_what was left of his squad_

...and had no intentions of facing his father’s displeasure until he had seen to his own men. 

“Tell him...” he started.

“Right away, sir,” the Deck Officer told him apologetically, looking as though he wanted to be elsewhere, and it was only now that Luke realised that the man was afraid of him, genuinely afraid of him. He felt a wave of shame and guilt; he was venting his own feelings, his anger, disappointment, and grief...

_fear_

...upon a man who was simply doing his job. A man who feared Luke’s father and thus, feared him.

Luke took in a breath to give himself a much-needed moment and let go of his emotions as Yoda had taught, feeling them dissipate in the Force. He sent another hand through his hair. “Inform Lord Vader I will be with him directly.”

ooOOoo

He showered first and changed his clothes, his hair was still damp, but with water rather than the rancid sweat of battle. The elevator to the bridge level was empty, the corridor devoid of all but droids and even they seemed to avoid him. Luke could feel his father’s ire through the blast doors, he could feel the tension of the bridge crew. 

Summoning his courage, Luke straightened his back, lifted his chin, and strode forward with a confidence he did not feel. The doors swept open before him and he walk in and toward his father who stood, as he often did, before the view ports in a wide legged stance with hands clasped behind his back.

“Father,” Luke greeted coming to a halt behind his sire.

Vader did not move. His voice was soft, dangerously so. “Do you believe that you are immune to discipline because you are my son?”

Luke swallowed. “Not at all, father.”

And now Vader did turn around and Luke had to force himself not to take a step back in response. His father’s eyes, so dark, red rimmed and ocher, sparked with temper. “And what would you suggest for an officer who disobeys a direct order during battle? An officer who then disobeys another direct order to report to his commander?”

“I saved lives!” Luke insisted, keeping his eyes upon his father’s. “Had I not disobeyed, my squad would be dead, I would be...”

“Then you are a coward.”

With a surge of anger, of temper, Luke took a step forward. “You know I am not,” he hissed. He glanced to the side seeing the Admiral standing a few feet away looking interested in the scanners, but he knew Ozzel was listening. He knew the initial orders had come from the Admiral. “My rank gives me the authority to countermand orders. Had I not, the Rebels would have escaped.”

Vader nodded. “Very true,” he gestured to the view beyond. To the debris and the bodies floating in empty space. “However, instead of having prisoners to question, we have nothing.” 

“Are my men nothing?” Luke wanted to know. “Am _I_ nothing, father?” 

Vader stared down at his son; his expression inscrutable. “We are all expendable in the service of the Empire.”

Luke’s jaw worked, and he swallowed again, hard. “Do I mean so little to you father?” His voice was tight, his mouth dry.

Vader turned away from his son, turned away to the blackness and the stars. “The Empire is everything, my son.” Again, those hands clasped behind his back, and Luke saw his father’s shoulders straighten. He had come to a decision. “You will report to the brig. Five days for disobeying the Admiral’s order. Ten days for failing to report to me. Two hours rack each day.”

Luke felt the blood drain from his face and pool as nausea in his belly. “Fath…”

“It would be best if you took yourself, rather than be escorted, Commander.”

Luke saw movement in his peripheral vision, saw troopers move forward, saw one remove binders from his belt. Humiliation burned, fear and anger bloomed.

“You put your Empire before everything else,” Luke said bitterly, his biting words hoarse and rasping with emotion. “Now I know why my mother left you.”

There was a blur of movement, a swift swing of an arm and pain bloomed in Luke’s face. He was sent reeling, falling, and the back of his head exploded in white light and agony when it smashed onto the deck plating.

He heard a shout and then he heard nothing at all.

ooOOoo


	41. I Beat You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I hope you have an explanation for this, young one," Vader said, arms crossed over his chest as he hovered over his son who was laying down in a bed in the medical wing.

**Prompt:** **"I hope you have an explanation for this, young one," Vader said, arms crossed over his chest as he hovered over his son who was laying down in a bed in the medical wing.**

Luke kept his eyes closed, not wishing to risk opening them to see his father or risk a spike in pain from the glaring lights lancing through his tender brain. 

There was an electronic “harrumph” sound from his father. “I know you are awake, Luke.”

“I,” Luke’s dry throat seized and he coughed to clear it. “I know, you know,” his voice was a whisper and he was surprised at the effort it took for him to make the sounds. 

He hurt all over, had already been told that he was lucky to be alive. He’d broken the femur in his left leg, shattered four ribs, collapsed a lung, bruised his liver, cracked his skull and had a small subdural haematoma. He’d had surgery, had been dipped in bacta for a few days and now was to convalesce for a week in the medical centre.

Of course, even when unconscious, he had been aware through out his ordeal of his father’s looming presence, just waiting for this first moment of full clarity to start his interrogation.

Luke heard the creak of leather, and a thud of a boot as Vader moved closer. “I am waiting, Luke.”

Luke sighed, winced at the pain in his healing chest, and said, “I just wanted to know what it was like.”

“I had already explained to you how dangerous it was, how fatal it could be.”

Luke’s jaw hardened. “You were younger than me, when you did it.” He shot back, opening his eyes to immediately close them again as the feared headache did indeed spike. 

“Only by a few weeks, Luke, and I,” Vader pointed out, growling. “Did not crash.”

Luke let a small smile curl his lips. “I still won,” he whispered in satisfaction.

There was a heavy gloved hand trailing across his brow, and his head felt suddenly a little better. “Indeed you did,” Vader told him, and was that pride he heard in his father’s voice? “However, next time you wish to pod race on Tatooine you will be expressly forbidden from doing so.” 

Vader’s voice however, had softened somewhat and Luke could feel himself beginning to drift asleep. However, before sleep could claim him, he opened his eyes and squinted at his father. The smiled widened as his eyelids drooped once more as he forced out, “I beat your time, too....” 

ooOOoo 


End file.
